The Seven Deadly States
by NewtGirl
Summary: Used to be just Gluttony, but now a series. Sue me. All OC states. Earns its ratings, so not my fault if your 10-year-old reads it.
1. Conchita Ohio

**A/N: I couldn't help myself. **

"I'm hungry."

A small brunette woman frowned at her black-haired husband. He was always hungry. She wouldn't dare say it to his face, however; his temper was too volatile.

They were where they always seemed to be in their waking hours, in the dining hall. Though the table was at least 40 feet long, they were the only two people who sat there. There was no one foolish enough to dine with her husband besides her, and that was only because she was used to his rather 'unique' appetite.

Today's dinner was specially ordered by her dear Logan, as usual: a huge spread of the most revolting food you could imagine. Skewered cameras, cereal loaded with screws and bolts, even a large piece of meat glazed in a curious blue liquid she knew without a doubt was poisonous. Of course, she herself always had a tiny plate to herself, with a bit of corn and ham. She wouldn't touch her husband's food, and he liked it better that way.

The two of them were personifications, him being the state of Ohio and her being Iowa. Though normally regarded as siblings, they had been wed out of a political necessity, but neither of them really minded. They cared for each other, Iowa probably more than her husband. Of course, she had to care for him dearly, to be able to tolerate him and his obsession day after day.

As she picked at her small serving of corned beef, she tried not to look at her husband and his ferocious eating. The meat he was eating was very obviously raw, but he didn't seem to care. He was enjoying himself, and that was all that mattered to the servants, who were desperate not to anger him.

It was rather surprising how many servants they had, a whole 8, shockingly all personifications themselves. They didn't enjoy their work, but a rumor persisted that Ohio would eat any servant that dared to ask for a leave, let alone quit. There were only two that didn't care, a pair of twins that were actually Iowa's children. Officially Des Moines and West Des Moines, Daniel and Danielle served their stepfather with gusto, though knowing their mischievous nature she suspected they were just testing how gross they could make his food before he would hit his limit. They hadn't found it yet.

"Utah, the menu," Logan said gruffly. A blonde servant boy, tall and muscular though too timid to take advantage of it, handed him the bit of chalkboard they used as their menu. He perused it, then pointing at something or other, making the other servants scurry and slide the appropriate plates down to him. Iowa, or Samantha, was mostly looked over. She kept to herself, and was notoriously much more passive than her husband and would never ask for anything. It was safe to leave her unnoticed.

As Ohio stuffed his face with a new set of garbage trying to pass as edible, Iowa could only sigh.

**Today's Menu**

**Breakfast**

**Deep fried camera (Polaroid) on a stick**

**Cornflakes (High in iron)**

**Roast Beef with a special Cyanide Glaze**

**Rotten Dragon fruit Salad**

**Special Hi Potion from M**onalds**

She'd had to take a break.

It'd been hard to leave from the table, with her husband glowering at her like she was committing a mortal sin and the servants looking worried for her life, but she'd gotten him to cede. She'd have to thank Jason later for distracting him with that 'special tart' that was probably just a severely burnt S'more.

She went to the garden she'd made herself. It was simple, just a couple bushes of prairie roses and daisies, but what can you do when your husband diverts all the money to food? There were no servants to tend it, so it was up to her. It'd been a while since she'd been able to leave her husband's side, so there was grooming that needed to be done.

"Mrs. Jones?" That was a voice she hadn't heard in a while. She turned from where she knelt next to some tiny corn sprouts to see the head chef, also known as Pennsylvania. He was a feminine sort of man, blonde hair in a ponytail and a soft sort of face, but he was tougher than he looked. "I need to ask you a favor."

She frowned. "I don't know how much I can do, dear, but I can try…" His face brightened and he knelt next to her, taking her hands.

"I want a vacation. I don't need a long one, a week or so will do, but I need _something._ Ohio has gone completely nuts, I can't ask him. Please?" She frowned even more. Ohio really wouldn't approve. However, the hopeful way he was smiling at her made her pity him.

"W-Well, I suppose I can try-" "What the hell is going on here?"

Her blood ran cold. Ohio was standing in the doorway, a look of murderous rage on his face.

Pennsylvania jumped away from her, trying to conceal his terror. "I-It's not what it looks like, sir, I was just asking the Mistress a favor-" He was cut off due to being lifted off the ground by his collar.

"A favor? My ass that was just a 'favor'. Samantha is _my fucking wife_ and I will be damned before any two-bit servant lays a hand on her! DANIEL, DANIELLE!" The twins popped out of the door, curly dark brown hair in their eyes. "Take this piece of garbage to the kitchen. I've got a new idea…"

**Lunch**

**Stir-fry Soap Chips**

**Tree Bark Pancakes (Maple Flavored)**

**Breaded Yarn Balls**

**Cement Fondue**

**Philly Cheese Steak (Extra Philly)**

Pennsylvania had been wrong. He wasn't insane before. Now, he most definitely was.

During lunch, she couldn't stand to eat anything. She could only watch in horror as Ohio happily breezed through a large stack of cheese steaks. She couldn't think anything but "My God, that was once Pennsylvania," and it took everything in her power not to vomit.

Second to vomiting, she wished she could call her husband out on his inhumanity. "That was a human being, your own brother! How can you sit there eating it, knowing full well what it is, _smiling_ about it?" However, she was a coward. He was more unpredictable now than ever before. Now she knew he was not above cannibalism. She didn't think she could ever bear to kiss him again.

He finished the entire plate without a single hesitation. She felt sick when she realized she was relieved it was over, that she didn't have to see it anymore. She managed to bring a piece of corn up to her mouth when she heard her husband speak for the first time since that incident in the garden. "Utah, come here for a minute, I have a question."

She nearly choked on that piece of corn when she heard the question. "I wonder, what do you taste like?"

**Dinner**

**Blood-red Jell-O (Utah Flavored)**

**New York-style Pizza with New York Topping**

**Huckleberry and Idaho Pie**

**Peach Cobbler with Georgia's Special Red Sauce**

**Walla Walla Sweet Onion and Washington Stir-fry**

Everyone was gone. All the servants, even her own children, dead at his hands. All devoured so callously.

She stared down at her plate, unable to touch any of it. She knew without a doubt that those things that looked like cheese curds on a stick were made from her twin babies, and the thought alone made her cry endlessly, though silently. Her feelings for her husband had gone from love, to hate, to absolute fear.

She was next. She knew it. She wasn't scared, however. She didn't want to live anymore.

Her end came in the hallway. It was so sudden, but she embraced it. The end to her suffering.

He'd wrapped his arms around her waist in a way that was probably meant to be lovingly, petting her hair. It made her smile, remember the days when he was normal. That smile didn't disappear even when she heard him whisper in her ear, "My dear Samantha, I'm still hungry…"

It all went in a blur to her. She vaguely recalled being shoved to the floor and pinned. She remembered the insane look on her husband's face. The knife in his hand.

"I was saving you for last," he said, "I didn't want to hurt you. But my darling, even though all the others that could ever take you away are gone, I can't bear the thought of you ever leaving me…" A smile that split his face. The cold edge of the knife against her cheek. "So I'll eat you. You'll be with me forever…" A sharp pain in her stomach. Blood spreading across the tiled floors. A feeling of teeth in her shoulder. "My darling, you're so sweet…" Darkness.

**Midnight Snack**

**Fair-Style Deep-Fried Des Moines Bits on a Stick (both male and female)**

**Iowa's Special Corned 'Beef'**

There was nothing left. He'd eaten everything. The furniture, the servants, even his darling wife.

Yet Ohio was still hungry.

The people who usually delivered food to the mansion had long since stopped coming. He'd been eating everything he could just to stay alive. He started on his clothes this afternoon. Eventually, he was eating the clothes he'd been wearing.

He stopped suddenly, the fabric of his sleeve in his mouth, when he spotted his hand. A brilliant idea had come to him. It made him smile.

"There's still something I haven't eaten yet."

**Last Meal**

**Raw Human Meat, Courtesy of Ohio**

If you were to wander into that decrepit mansion in the countryside, you would first be assaulted by the smell of rotting and blood. You may see a couple of portraits of a man with black hair, but otherwise the place will be devoid of furnishings. The kitchen would be an utter cesspool of human waste, hair and nails, teeth and bones, most of it even looking like someone had been chewing on it.

And in the largest bedroom, you'll find the man from the paintings. He'll be on the floor, chunks of flesh missing from all over. His right hand will be entirely bitten off. Blood will stain both the carpet and his teeth. And he'll be smiling, because he ate everything in the world.

**A/N: No, I don't know what's wrong with me. Iowa is the only one that's mine, by the way. Des Moines and West Des Moines belong to Lydiacatfish, and every other character belongs to VstsvajSonce. Conchita belongs to Mothy, so basically I own nothing but the one character. Happy nightmares.**


	2. Iowa's Gift

**A/N: Because of my dear friend VstavajSonce updating a story that was coated in cobwebs, I've decided to turn this one-shot into an entire series. So, enjoy Sloth. And your new batch of nightmares.**

"I'm so tired of this."

What was she saying? She wasn't tired of anything. She loved her life.

She loved her darling husband, Ohio. Even though he brought home new whores every day, hanging off his arms like leeches. Even though he mostly ignored her. Even though she knew quite well he'd only agreed to marry her due to her land and money.

But that didn't matter. Not at all. As long as she was able to be by his side and love him, she was happy.

She looked down at the little boy asleep in her lap. His official name was the town of Manly, but she called him Drew. He was her and Ohio's son, and she loved him dearly. He looked so much like his father. It made her smile.

She was happy.

**The Des Moines Register**

**Beautiful weather over the weekend, perfect for the Arts Festival…**

Her dear Ohio seemed off today. There was no women with him, he didn't even have his normal sexy smirk. It worried her.

He didn't say a word to her, which was normal, but he just seemed so…tired. Stressed. She couldn't stand to see him that way.

She glanced at the bottle of clear blue liquid on her bedside table. Of course, her sleeping medicine! A friend of hers had taught her how to make it a very long time ago, and she knew it to be very potent. It could help her darling.

"What is it, Ali-Samantha?" He almost forgot her name. That pristine smile on her face didn't falter in the slightest, however. She just quietly took his hands and slipped the bottle of sleep medicine into it.

"It's sleep medicine, darling…You seem so stressed…" She smiled warmly. "Just consider it a gift, from me…"

He frowned, but nodded. It was strange that his wife should give a damn about him after how he treated her, but he guessed that was just her nature. After she left, he took a deep swig of the stuff. Maybe he should be nicer to her from now on…

**The Des Moines Register**

**A mysterious new illness has sprung up in the Midwest, one dead already…**

She hadn't noticed it before. She didn't realize she had been so blind.

But everyone was so sad.

Her dear brothers and sisters, even the people just walking the streets, they were all miserable. Stressed, sad, angry…She equated it down to one thing. They all needed sleep.

And her sleep medicine was just the thing to help.

She was in charge of catering the next meeting. It was a small one, just among the Midwestern states, but she knew what she had to do. It would take too long to give everyone the medicine individually, so she just slipped a good amount into the delicious-looking corn chowder she had made.

As she carried it out to the meeting room, where Illinois was domineering over it all with only paltry input from everyone else, she was smiling that same pristine smile.

**The Des Moines Register**

**The new illness has been spreading fast, though for some reason seems mostly contained to the Midwest. People are dying by the hundreds of thousands and it doesn't seem to be letting up…**

Everyone was happy now. They were all asleep now.

She kept petting her young son that rested in her lap, completely ignoring how limp he was. He was sleeping now. He would be happier this way.

She giggled softly.

**The New York Times**

**The illness that has sprung up in the Midwest has ended. However, not a single survivor has been found…**

All she had wanted was hope. The ability to do something for herself for once.

And she had gotten it. With everyone else asleep, she had freedom and fortune to spare. They couldn't tell her what to do anymore.

All of her life, that's all it had been. Used every day to someone else's whims. Like a decorative doll.

It broke her, it really did. She didn't know when it happened, but it did. A broken doll was of no use to anyone. So she decided to make herself of use.

By destroying everything.

But in the end, she was the only one not asleep. And she was so tired, so tired…

She really didn't notice or care anymore that her husband was still lying dead on his bed, not having been moved since the day she murdered him. She just wanted to sleep. And sleep she would.

An empty glass bottle clanked to the ground, and she fell onto the bed with her husband, wrapping herself in his cold, limp arms.

"Now, I can be Sleeping Beauty…"

**A/N: Not as good as the first, I fear. But it's done. And I shall post it. And you shall have nightmares. And I shall laugh.**


	3. The Princess of Illinois

**A/N: As per VstavajSonce's request, Pride, played by Illinois. Enjoy, because this probably won't have the same nightmare potential.**

You'd usually think of a princess as being humble, kindly and beautiful, correct? There's no way a princess could be anything else. Unless, of course, you don't watch Disney.

Her Majesty, known as Megan Jones, was beautiful, but cruel. Unendingly cruel.

Just by looking at her, you'd think that her country was prospering. She always wore the finest dresses of imported silk, sat on a solid gold throne, and had a beautiful silver tiara as her crown, full of so many gemstones it could snap. Problem is, her country was falling to shambles.

Recently, the crop had failed, and the common folk were starving. They had no money due to the back-breaking taxes, because, well, Her Majesty wanted a new diamond ring. And the princess always got what she wanted, be it diamonds or someone's head on a pike.

The most recent case of head-on-pike was her own captain of the guard. He'd been trying to distribute grain from the royal storage without her knowing, and that just wouldn't do. She needed that grain for her cake and baklava!

The captain's son was before her now, being forced to kneel before her. He had a look of barely-contained fury behind his short white hair.

"Your Majesty…" he said through grated teeth, his hate for her seeping into the air. "your people are short on both money and bread. We _need_ your help…"

Her Majesty was sitting on her throne, dressed all in grassy green to match her eyes. She hid her smug smile behind her tiny hand fan. "I don't see why I should."

The man was barely held back by the guards. "They're your own verdammt people! If they die, so will you!" The queen just laughed.

"That isn't true at all, is it, Sammy?" she asked the servant girl next to her. She bore a resemblance to the queen, but was obviously no one important. Her only response was a tiny nod and a "yes, your Majesty".

The princess laughed boisterously, and with a flick of her fan had the young man taken from the room, which was a lot harder than it sounded. He'd been let off rather leniently, seeing as his head wasn't rolling on the floor right about then.

She honestly just felt in a lenient mood since lunch was close, and Sammy was a great cook.

**(I can't think of a creative line break, sue me)**

"GOD DAMMIT!"

The princess held a letter in her furiously shaking hands, biting back tears of anger. Her servant was standing in the doorway, slightly afraid of her Majesty's anger.

She knew well what was wrong: it was her fiancé. A man from the country next door, one she loved dearly. However, he didn't care for her at all, knowing her cruelty towards her subjects. That letter was a request to end their engagement in favor of a girl who hailed from the blue country to the east, surrounded by lakes. Long story short, she was utterly furious.

"Samantha, get in here." She trembled, but entered, afraid of being smacked. Instead, the princess gripped her shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen on her.

"I want the entire blue country burned to the ground."

**(LINE BREEEEEEAK)**

The entire country had burned, just as the princess had wanted. She'd sent the entire army into the land, killing and maiming anyone who they came across. Of course, Megan's personal servant had been in charge of 'taking care' of the girl. She'd done so without any regrets; it wasn't the first time she'd killed in the name of her Majesty. The captain of the guards came to mind.

There had been one tiny problem, however: the man Samantha loved, the Blue Prince. They had met in the middle of town one day, when she accidentally dropped the things her Majesty had requested her to get. He had helped her, despite not knowing her at all, and she was immediately charmed by him. She had been in charge of the assassination of the prince as well, but...she couldn't do it. She let him go. He'd told her to do it, saying she would be killed for treason if she didn't, but she couldn't harm him. Besides him, not one of the royal family of Blue survived, and barely any of the citizens made it out unharmed. The Blue Country was effectively wiped off the map.

This had been the last straw for the people, though Illinois hadn't known there had been straws to begin with. They began arming themselves behind the army's back, though it's not like they could do anything to stop them. They were tired, and slowly growing rebellious themselves after being forced to murder so many innocents under the whims of the selfish princess.

Eventually, the rebellion exploded into its climax, led by a man in dark red armor. Staring out from the princess' window, Samantha could tell it was the captain's son, the same that had attempted to make her Majesty see sense.

The princess herself was having a breakdown. "What are they doing? Don't they know I can have all of them killed?" Samantha just frowned. Megan was doomed if she didn't do something quick. She sighed, knowing what she had to do.

"My princess, take my spare clothes."

"What?"

"They're coming for you, but…We look a lot alike, you know? If I cut my hair like this, then…"

"Sammy, you can't!"

"I can and I will. I won't let my sister die."

"Your…your what?"

"Put them on and go!"

**(Line-dy Line Break)**

The man in red, named Thomas, was charging up the steps to where he knew the princess' room to be. On the way, he passed a brown-haired maid wearing a black cloak running out of the castle, but he paid her no heed.

He busted down the overly-decorated wooden doors to a huge bedroom with a gigantic window, where the dimming sunlight outlined the figure of the princess. He put his sword to her delicate throat. "You're under arrest, /my liege/."

She slowly turned around, looking Thomas dead in the eyes. The princess looked...different, somehow. More delicate. Just as these thoughts went through his head, she backhanded his sword away. "You disrespectful man!"

**(BREAK OF THE LINE VARIETY)**

It was 3 in the afternoon the next day. The revolution had been a complete success. The guards had either fallen in battle against the enraged citizens or joined their cause. The princess, of course, had been captured. And it was at this time that she was scheduled for execution.

As the heavy bells tolled, the princess, still in her fancy grassy green dress despite being in heavy chains, was lead out to the guillotine. She kept her head proudly stuck in the air, refusing to even look at the crowd of peasants watching in suspense.

As the princess was forced to kneel at the guillotine, the 'servant' charged through the crowd to the very front, tears in her eyes. When their eyes met for one final time, the 'princess' did her typical smirk and bowed her head.

"Oh my, looks like it's time for lunch."

SHING.

**A/N: I AM DOOOONE. I'm proud of this one! **


	4. The Tailor Shop in Philadelphia

**A/N: Ta da, Envy! ****Enjoy.**

Philadelphia was a very beautiful city, even if it was a little old fashioned in some places. For example, there was a quaint little tailor shop near the city's edge, run by a young man named Joshua who could rather easily pass as a woman. Longish blonde hair in a low ponytail and kind blue eyes, he was known for his great skill at what he did.

However, he didn't care about his work. Not anymore.

He only cared that his wife never came home.

His wife was the most beautiful woman in town: curled brown hair, green eyes as big as a doe's, a very gentle personality. However, her kindness seemed to not be directed towards him. He always saw her around town, shamelessly hanging off the arm of another man, acting like he didn't exist. He never said anything, though. He knew her conscious would come back to her eventually.

**The Philadelphia Inquirer **

**The weather seems to be keeping up nicely, and the citizens are in a general good mood…**

He saw her the next day. With another man.

This man was a repeat offender, he knew. Tall, black hair, muscular, wearing a fancy dark blue suit as he strolled along the main street casually with another man's wife. And she was smiling so warmly at him…It made Joshua sick to his stomach. He was forced to turn around and go home.

However, he had to keep up with his work. Even though his eyes were getting red and puffy with tears, he worked well into the night with trembling hands, trying to make the blue suit he was working on just right.

**The Philadelphia Inquirer**

**It seems, strangely enough, that there has been a murder committed in our fair city. A young man was found stabbed to death in his home yesterday morning. The weapon has yet to be identified, and a suspect has not been arrested…**

Again, Pennsylvania saw her, this time over a quaint little bridge. Of course, she had company.

He swore the man looked familiar, but he couldn't tell if he knew him: Short white hair, blue eyes, muscular, with a black suit and white tie that worked surprisingly well. He was petting her hair comfortingly, while she cried into his shoulder.

His eyes narrowed, his nails digging into his leg. This had to stop.

Again, he found himself working well into the night, this time trying to tailor a tie that would fit the suit he'd made just right. He thought white would work well.

**The Philadelphia Inquirer**

**Another victim of the unknown killer has been found. Another young man, killed the same way, in his own home. Strangely, the two victims were brother-in-laws…**

In front of a jewelry shop this time. Another young man. This one too young.

He bore a disturbing resemblance to his darling: same curly brown hair, though his was a darker shade, same short stature, same manner of speech. But the boy was obviously just that: just a boy. Couldn't have been older than 16. It was shameful.

He saw her buy him a golden watch, a very fancy one. He couldn't help but mutter to himself, "You really are a shameless whore, aren't you?"

Even then, he still needed to work. He was almost done, just the finishing touches were left. He picked out shoes that would match just right, as well as a golden watch.

**The Philadelphia Inquirer**

**Yet another victim was discovered this morning. A teenage boy, found in his room with similar stab wounds. Still, the stab wounds are a strange pattern that the police cannot identify to any knife known, and there has been no leads. An interesting thing to note, his mother noticed that the watch she had bought him that morning was missing…**

He read the papers, of course. He heard of the murderer going around, killing young men. However, that was of no concern to him. After all, his ultimate work was finally finished.

He carefully brushed over every last inch of the outfit he'd created, consisting of a dark blue suit, a white tie, and a golden watch. It was the things that his dear Samantha loved. If he wore them, she would certainly come back to him. After all, if she wasn't going to come to him, he would have to come to her.

When morning dawned, he put his suit on, tailored to fit him _just right_, before smiling ominously into the mirror. She would call him handsome and come home immediately. It was certain.

**The Philadelphia Inquirer**

**On top of all the murders that have happened recently, a disappearance has been reported. A young woman named Samantha Jones has gone missing. A friend of hers stopped by her house to check up on her, only to find a copious amount of blood, but no Samantha. The blood has tested positive to be hers, but there is still little to go on. However, her disappearance is definitely linked to the murders; the first victim was her husband, the second her brother, the third her own son…**

She had been awful.

He had gone up to her as suavely as he could, doing his best to not spit into a rage. However, her only response to him had been a very soft "It's a pleasure to meet you". It was like she didn't even know him.

Like he was a stranger.

But of course, that wasn't true. He'd persuaded her to come home with him, eventually. It took more than he thought it would, but she came home. He smiled warmly at her motionless form from where he sat at his work desk, cutting a long piece of green fabric with a pair of blood-soaked sewing scissors.

After all, the more they're sharpened, the better they cut.

**A/N: Aaaaand back to the nightmares. Sleep well.**


	5. Lola's Court

**A/N: So, I felt like writing up Greed. For note, these are Fem!Ohio and Male!Iowa, in case that was confusing. **

A young woman with short black hair sat in the back of a large vault, overflowing with all sorts of currency and treasures. She was carefully inspecting every piece, making sure it was authentic, before adding it to the count she had going. Despite that, she knew it wasn't enough.

Her name was Lola, and she was a judge, as well as a collector of sorts. Of course, she didn't care for the legal system that much. There was only one thing that could get you safely out of her courtroom: money.

Appearance, age, race, gender, innocence, guilt, absolutely none of that mattered. She had a price, 500 grand or higher, and if you couldn't pay it, you were guilty. Simple as that. She felt no guilt for the murderers she had pardoned, or for the innocents she had condemned to the guillotine.

Money is the best lawyer in hell, after all.

She peered out of the vault, into the tiny house she and her 'husband' resided in. Her collection was small, but there was only seven pieces to collect. Those were the things called the Deadly Sin Fragments. This was the most important thing in her life, completing her collection. If she could do that, she could have her greatest wish. She already had four: the Four Mirrors of Pride, the Glass of Gluttony, the Silver Spoon of Greed, and…

She walked out, making sure to indicate for herself where she'd left off beforehand, heading towards a huge form lying on the couch. His eyes were closed, hands folded, short brown hair hanging loose. He was her husband, Samuel. He couldn't walk. Of course, she had a wheelchair for him, but he was 6'10", and nearly impossible to pick up, so he mostly stayed stationary on the couch.

She tilted his head up, and his eyes flicked open in a rather inhuman way. She smiled, but he didn't respond, not even blinking. Her greatest wish…

.L.I.N.E.

What a goldmine of a defendant she had today! The general of the army, known for his atrocities on the battlefield. He knew of her policies, and had given her a hefty sum of 2 million. Of course, she let him go.

Unfortunately, her decision sparked off a civil war among the outraged civilians. How could a man who was obviously guilty be let free?

The general was found dead in his own backyard a couple of days later.

At the moment, Lola was feeling the heat herself. And by that, she meant that her house had been set on fire with her inside.

She was done for either way. She could escape from the house, but there were revolutionaries outside that would kill her in an instant. So, she resigned herself to her fate and hugged her husband close. She wasn't scared as long as she was with him.

It scared her to death when she felt him hug back.

She looked up hesitantly to see Samuel's eyes open on their own accord, smiling warmly down at her. It was the most she'd ever seen him do. "Samuel…"

He hugged her tightly into his chest, apparently trying to shield her with his own body. "…Thank you…" His voice was rough from lack of use. "…for…loving me…" Soon enough, the flames overwhelmed them both.

Inside the burnt-down mansion, the revolutionaries found a woman's corpse, dead from apparently smoke inhalation, with a very burnt clockwork doll wrapped around her.

.L.I.N.E.

Though she was sure she was already dead, she still felt extreme heat.

She managed to haul herself to her feet to take a look around. She was in a long hall, at the end being a platform. Someone in a black cloak stood there, patiently waiting for her. On either side of the platform stood two doors, one marked "Hell" and the other "Heaven".

"Miss Lola Jones, guilty of being the personification of the sin of Greed," the figure boomed. She could see frightening blue eyes staring at her from under the hood. "However, I am willing to pardon your crimes and send you to heaven, if and only if you surrender all of your money to me."

Lola summoned all the courage she had, walked straight up to the figure, and whispered into his ear: "I will never surrender any of my fortune to the likes of you." The rage boiling in those blue eyes only made her feel triumphant.

With a wave of his hand, the door to hell opened, and she was sucked down. She took it all in stride.

It turned out that hell had a mighty long drop beforehand, giving Lola time to think. "Once more, some day, I'll be able to collect the sins again…" she muttered, smiling ominously.

"And on that day, hell shall become a Utopia for Samuel and me…"

**A/N: Another sin down! Sadly this will have to go on hiatus after Lust is finished, since Wrath has yet to be released. HOWEVER, I am planning on writing out the side story things, including the Original sin, but I'm not quite sure how that's going to go in terms of uploading. I might just make another story and post them in chronological order, who knows. Anyway, thanks for reading!**


End file.
